


With Purpose, Not Delicate

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Anal Fingering, Discipline, Hand Jobs, Kaz is a sex pest, M/M, Metal Gear Solid: Peace Walker, Orgasm Delay, Prostate Milking, Unclear character motivations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 17:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19873654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: Faced with a morale crisis, Big Boss takes on the monumental task of keeping Kaz's libido under control.





	With Purpose, Not Delicate

With both arms stretched across the back of the hideous naugahyde couch and one ankle crossed over one knee, Kaz sat across from Snake in his office with a look on his face like he didn’t feel he had done anything wrong and didn’t know why he had to be here – and for Kaz at the moment, this was a monumentally ambitious expression to pull off, considering how distorted his good looks currently were, his left eye swollen and purple, his lower lip busted open. The only sound came from the fan in the open window, blowing in cool sea air. Each man waited for the other to speak.

Snake was not enamored of this aspect of being a leader. To be sure, he had no problem giving a wayward soldier a smack upside the head, when distribution of such straightforward discipline was necessary; but when there was a recurring issue that needed to be addressed in a more involved way, he had gotten used to delegating it to Kaz. Now Kaz was the problem, and Snake wasn’t sure how to deal with it. He was Kaz’s superior officer, of that there was no doubt, but both of them knew that Kaz had become indispensable to the MSF – he was just as charismatic as Snake, and nearly as formidable a fighter, but he was more cunning, more ambitious, and possessed a clearer vision of what MSF could truly be. They had met so inauspiciously in the jungle, and since then had graduated to a fully-functioning Mother Base, and everyone owed it to Kaz’s efforts. There had been times when Snake had looked to him for guidance. Because of this, Snake had come to see him, and to treat him, as more or less an equal. That made it more difficult to reprimand him.

Kaz was disappointed to read this ambivalence in Snake’s face. What he understood and respected about Snake was his uncomplicatedness. Kaz could wrap his head around complexity, but there were some things he did not like to be complicated – like sex. He appreciated that once you got past Snake’s encyclopedic knowledge of warfare, everything else about him, as a leader and a man, was blunt: his point of view was either black or white, his feelings either bold or absent. Kaz tilted his head, tapped his foot, waiting for Snake to say something, until he finally got fed up and broke the silence. “Look, I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Snake raised one eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Because that shiner you got tells me that Armadillo thinks it’s a big deal.”

Kaz smirked with the half of his face that was still pristine. “Can I get some ice to put on this, by the way?”

Snake crossed his arms over his chest. “Nah. Letting it swell up and hurt like hell for a while longer might help you remember the lesson Armadillo taught you...and you being ugly might slow you down with the ladies for a few days.”

“That’s what you think,” Kaz muttered. “Look, it was just one little scuffle, alright? Ninety-nine percent of the time, there’s no problem. Armadillo is just a square who doesn’t want his girl to be with anyone else, and he poked his nose in at the wrong time.”

“The only one who poked anything in at the wrong time is _you_. You know that I don’t normally care what my soldiers do with their dicks, so long as it doesn’t interfere with their duties. But you not being able to keep it in your pants is getting to be bad for morale. It has not escaped my attention that in addition to their standard training, all new recruits on Mother Base get a whispered warning about your predatory tendencies.”

Kaz was incensed by the implication Snake seemed to be making. “Hey now, I have never taken advantage of anyone who was unwilling–”

“There’s ‘willing’ and then there’s ‘a good idea.’ You may think you’re above a reprimand because you got one of those things halfway figured out, but you’re ass-backwards about the other, and it’s gotta stop.”

Kaz said nothing for a moment. This line of argument was going nowhere. He needed to stop swimming upstream and try a different approach. “Listen, Boss, you think I _want_ to behave like this all the time? I know I’ve got a weakness, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I need to get off every day, it’s as simple as that. If I don’t, I get sick. I get headaches. I talked to a soldier here who used to work for the Secret Service, and he said Kennedy had the same problem, and that guy managed to run the whole goddamn free world. So just let me do what I need to do, so that I can do what I need to do, huh?”

Snake gritted his teeth. “I can’t let you run wild because of some made-up problem you have if it means MSF becomes your personal cathouse.”

“So what’s your solution, then? Since my solution is off the table.”

Snake leaned back in his chair, uncrossed his arms, a laced his fingers together over his chest while he contemplated. Kaz sighed; contemplation was not Snake’s forte.

Finally, Snake said, “All you need to do is get off?”

“Yeah.”

“It doesn’t have to be fancy or anything?”

“Nope. Just get it up, get it in, get it off, and get it out, that’s the whole system.”

Snake chuckled. “Yeah, I overheard Dragonfly tell you she calls that the ‘four-get-it’ system.”

Kaz snorted. “Who needs her, she’s frigid anyway.”

“Uh-huh. Well, if your needs are so simple, from now on, when you have an urge, you can come to me with it.”

Kaz’s stomach dropped. “Excuse me?”

“If all you need is to get off,” Snake said with an indolent tilt of his head, “and it doesn’t matter who it’s with or how, while the morale of this company is at stake, I will take on the duty of maintaining your physical integrity.”

There followed the longest, most tense silence between the two of them since Kaz had held a concealed grenade in the Colombian jungle and urged Snake to come just a little closer. Kaz waited for the punchline, waited for some kind of shoe of humiliation to drop. None was forthcoming. He stared hard into Snake’s good eye, trying to discern _cleverness_ , in the way that this proposal might seem “clever.” Snake would press-gang you in a heartbeat, but he was not a _manipulator_. He had charisma but he’d never gotten anyone to fight and die at his side by convincing them of anything they didn’t already believe in. Kaz respected Snake but he was no fool, and did not give Snake credit for any talent he did not possess.

This left two possibilities: that Snake was so genuinely concerned for Kaz’s well-being and so unwilling to further burden their limited medical staff that he would carve out a slice of his own precious time to personally see to the needs of one of his own troops...or that Snake was taking advantage of the circumstances that had fallen into his lap because he wanted to _fuck_. Kaz could not decide on an option, as both seemed so unlikely. 

Kaz favored Snake with a brief, curt tilt of the chin, to show he was agreeable regardless of whether this was a generous offer or a challenge meant to show dominance. “You got it,” he said. Snake nodded and made his usual dismissive gesture to indicate that Kaz could leave.

“Guess I’ll be back, then,” Kaz said instead of a proper goodbye, and rose from the couch.

***

It was Snake’s habit to dine with his soldiers in the mess hall, but today he was having lunch in his office, using his short break to work on the copy of Che Guevara’s _Guerilla Warfare_ that Kaz had loaned him. He shoveled forkfuls of meatloaf and mashed potatoes into his mouth with one hand while holding the book with the other, wishing there were a way he could economize on time by being able to absorb either knowledge or nutrition instantaneously.

About the time he’d finished his tray of food and shoved it aside, there was a knock on the door. He grunted to indicate that the person should enter, but continued reading the book. From the corner of his eye, he could see that it was Kaz.

“You got those weather reports?” Snake asked. Then he looked up to see that Kaz was empty-handed.

“That’s not why I’m here, no,” Kaz said, in a way that would have seemed weirdly coy, if they hadn’t had the conversation they’d had yesterday.

Snake went back to looking at the book, finishing up the paragraph he was reading, and slowly said, “Oh, this is about your little condition, huh?”

“I told you I’d be back.”

Snake sighed, just to remind Kaz that he was being a burden and an annoyance. Kaz’s eyes followed as Snake dropped the book on his desk, stood up, and made his way around the desk to the couch. It was narrow, only made for two occupants, but Kaz had definitely fucked on less comfortable furniture.

Snake sat squarely in the middle of the sofa, then gestured to his lap. “Lie down here,” he said.

Kaz’s eyebrows went up. “You gonna spank me for being naughty?” Not that he would have been entirely opposed to that.

“Face _up_ ,” Snake said. “We’re not playing games here.”

“Oh, we’re not, good to know.”

Kaz did as he was told; it was awkward, as he was in no way dainty, and could only squeeze lengthwise on the couch if he bent his knees. The arms of the couch were low, though, so he could stretch his legs out and rest them on one arm, and could more or less comfortably rest his head against the other, if he had his ass right in Snake’s lap.

Without ceremony, without tenderness, without even any good old-fashioned pillow talk, Snake unbuttoned Kaz’s fatigue jacket, revealing a white undershirt, which he shoved up to Kaz’s nipples. The ascot did not seem to concern him, and he left it in place. He made quick work of the buttons of Kaz’s trousers, shoving them and his underwear down his thighs with two solid yanks, the second aided somewhat by Kaz’s own hands.

Having been tucked into his waistband to conceal it somewhat on the journey to Snake’s office, Kaz’s erection sprang up from its confinement, then came to rest against his hip. He squirmed with the anticipation of being touched. Typically, he preferred something that would get his dick wet whenever possible, but this was at least a novel situation, so he figured he wouldn’t complain about a handjob.

Snake grabbed Kaz’s dick like he would grab a weapon, or a hunk of food – with purpose, not delicately. His strokes began immediately, and they were quick and unforgiving, pushing Kaz’s foreskin up and over the glans, making little wet sounds when his pre-come started. Kaz watched Snake’s stone-faced dedication to this task for a moment, then tipped his head back and let his eyes fall shut; he wouldn’t call Snake’s touch “clinical,” but it was at the very least impersonal. There was something about that, though, that Kaz found exciting in itself, being seen to in this rough and perfunctory kind of way, in an inappropriate, or at least unexpected, location. He was happy to see this through to the end.

But then, while his right hand continued pumping away, Snake rested his left hand on Kaz’s belly, and began to play with the fine, narrow trail of blond hair beneath his navel, that grew thicker the closer it got to his dick. It was so gently erotic that Kaz felt the need to lift his head and look to confirm that it was happening. He suddenly wanted to moan, to whimper, to communicate somehow that he was appreciative, but he was loath to show that kind of weakness. To keep quiet, he exhaled in sharp puffs through his nose, his heart pounding as Snake flattened his hand across Kaz’s belly, running his palm over that taut expanse of flesh with a slowness that could be interpreted so easily as tenderness. Something about what that left hand was doing was far more intimate and thrilling than the one around his dick, and Kaz made a choked little noise when his orgasm came upon him unexpectedly. His body jerked in Snake’s lap as he worked through it, shooting his load over both of Snake’s hands. Snake continued to squeeze him until he was empty and painfully sensitive, at which point he twisted to one side and pushed both hands away.

Sensing Snake’s impatience, Kaz did not dawdle in the afterglow for long. He pulled a handkerchief out of one of his jacket pockets and handed it to Snake, who cleaned his hands with it, then tossed it back and gave Kaz a light but no-nonsense slap on the thigh. “Now get back to work,” he said.

Kaz rolled off Snake and pulled up his trousers. “Thanks, Boss,” he said. “That helped.” This was not completely true – what had just happened was so unexpectedly exciting, he’d probably have to jerk off about it the second he went off duty for the day. But he was grateful nonetheless. He finished buttoning himself back up, smoothed his hands over his jacket, and stashed the soiled handkerchief in his pocket. Fearing that every second he lingered made things more awkward by an order of magnitude, Kaz walked out the door, leaving Snake on the couch.

***

Kaz was back in Snake’s office in twenty-four hours.

Snake had been out most of the day, getting in a little practice at the firing range, meeting new recruits, and checking in on R and D, and Kaz had not bothered him about a thing the whole time. But he hadn’t had two minutes in the privacy of his office to clean his Mk22 before Kaz was poking his head in the door.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than give me trouble?” Snake growled.

Kaz flashed a smile that he probably thought looked suitably sheepish, but really just looked smug. “Sorry. I’m only doing what you ordered me to do. I told you I need it all the time.”

“Get your ass in here, then,” Snake said, rising from his chair.

Kaz stood by the couch. “Same as yesterday?”

“Not quite,” said Snake. He set aside his pistol but picked up the bottle of Hoppe’s that was sitting next to it. It didn’t take a genius to guess what that could be used for in this situation – and Kaz _was_ a genius.

But before he could say anything, Snake sat down on the couch and ordered Kaz into the same position as before: face-up, over Snake’s lap. “Unbutton your jacket,” he said, as Kaz got settled in.

Kaz obeyed, while Snake worked on the buttons of his trousers. This time, he enlisted Kaz’s help to push them all the way down, trapping his ankles. “Gonna need more room to work, here,” he said. Kaz’s dick was already hard, so he was fine with being manhandled.

When he was satisfied with how wide Kaz could spread his thighs, Snake opened the bottle of gun oil and squeezed some onto the fingers of his right hand. “I can’t have you busting into my office every time your pipes are clogged up. I guess that was my mistake yesterday, thinking I’d gotten you properly taken care of. I see now that I’m going to have to put a little more effort in, really work you dry. It’ll save time in the long run.” With his left hand, Snake lifted Kaz’s balls and spread his cheeks.

Kaz sucked in a breath as the electric fan blew cool air on his exposed hole. Snake was doing what he was doing with a sexy kind of aggression but not with particular finesse, which made Kaz worry for his most delicate place. The gun oil was a godsend, cutting down on the friction as Snake’s blunt fingers breached the resistant muscle. Kaz’s body couldn’t help but squeeze around the intrusion, though it was of no use to do so. Kaz panted, “Gently, huh?”

Snake did not respond; he seemed to be trying to get in Kaz in the clumsiest, most clueless way possible, but he at least poured more oil directly onto his fingers as they pistoned in and out. Once Kaz made peace with what he was getting and how he was getting it, he could just begin to like the feeling of Snake’s knuckles catching on his rim with each stroke. But when Snake finally hit his prostate, squarely but probably purely by accident, Kaz’s whole body convulsed, and he groaned as a thick string of pre-come oozed from the tip of his cock. It was almost too intense, but as the sensation subsided, he found himself eager for more of the same, just to add a little excitement to the handjob he was anticipating.

But Snake soon made it clear that he was not intending to tease and pleasure him. Once Kaz’s noise clued him in that he’d found what he was looking for, he pushed and pressed and jabbed relentlessly, while Kaz hollered. Normally Kaz could keep quiet during sex, especially if he was having it with someone he maybe shouldn’t be, but right now he could do nothing to stop the moans and sobs that were coming out of his mouth. The way Snake was grinding against his prostate, it felt like his dick was being rubbed from the inside. It was a rich and intense sensation, but it only created more need in him – and, he finally noticed, Snake wasn’t actually touching his dick at all.

The longer Snake fucked him with two thick fingers, the more the good feeling just _ached_ , and made Kaz want to press his thighs together and squirm – he could only do the latter, a little. He felt each gout of pre-come as it surged or dribbled out of his cock, wetting his belly, matting his pubic hair. Snake was bringing forth his semen so slowly and pathetically that he could no longer anticipate or even imagine any promise of release. He barely felt like he _wanted_ to come anymore; he wished for some other kind of relief now, something kinder. With no idea how to get what he needed, he felt so helpless; he’d only ever known how to stroke his cock, or solicit a quick fuck, to relieve the pressure inside him. Desperate for release, Kaz made a move to jerk off, but Snake swatted his hands away, and continued to cruelly knead his insides.

“You can do that after I’m sure you’re empty. Maybe. Grab the couch if you think you’re not going to be able to control your hands.”

Kaz was in no position to disobey outright, but he did forego the couch in favor of gripping Snake’s arm and knee. He was in agony now, unable to stand another second of being slowly milked. His hips swiveled, in search of friction that wasn’t there. “Let me come, I’m good for a while, I promise,” he begged. “Please, I can’t possibly have anything left.”

Snake grunted. “Looks like it’s still coming out to me.”

It occurred to Kaz that if Snake were to lose focus, he might be able to sneak a hand on his dick. He started to say, in his sultriest voice: “Don’t you wanna fuck me, Boss? Don’t you wanna open up my asshole with your big fucking cock and make me scream?” Whether Snake would be distracted by the mere enticement or whether he decided he liked Kaz’s idea to mount him then and there, it made very little difference to Kaz at that point; either way he had a chance at coming.

But his invitation was not enough to sway Snake, who continued rubbing the come out of him the slow, agonizing way. “Maybe some other time,” he muttered.

Kaz was sweating all over, soaking his shirt under his arms and across his back and shoulders, and fatigue was setting in where he’d remained tensed up and trembling for so long. He arched his spine, twisting back and forth, trying anything, but it was when Snake grabbed his hip and held him down by force that he suddenly felt the familiar inkling of an orgasm creeping up. Oh God, Snake’s rough handling was going to make him come untouched. This had never happened before, and it was weirdly humiliating; he was so powerless to prevent Snake from giving him this.

And then, in an instant, there was no more embarrassment. His mind simply went blank as his quaking body erupted into hard contractions and his aching, untouched cock pumped two final, powerful jets of spunk, the first of which landed on his chin and ascot. He howled with the most wrenching sort of relief as he clawed into Snake’s arm and knee, struggling through violent orgasmic convulsions. Snake continued to prod him inside until he couldn’t stand it anymore, a final cry of blissful torment escaping him, and then surrender: “ _Fuck, alright, you win_.” Kaz’s chest heaved as he struggled to recover his wits.

Snake withdrew too quickly, and Kaz gasped at the sudden sore emptiness inside him. “Get up,” Snake said. “This isn’t a spa, you’re not here to relax.”

Kaz had forgotten how to get up. When Snake shifted a little, he feared he’d be flipped right off his lap. Instead, Snake helped him tug his trousers up enough that he could roll off the couch but still land feet first, then got himself buttoned up. He took off his stained ascot and held it, wadded up, in his fist. His knees shook, and he kept looking at Snake, waiting for him to return his glance, but Snake just stood up, put the Hoppe’s back on the desk, then picked up his cleaning rag, which he used to wipe off his fingers.

“You waiting for a lollipop? Get back to work.”

Kaz squared his shoulders. “Sure, Boss.” He finished buttoning his jacket and closed the door behind him as he left.

***

Snake didn’t typically meet potential clients in his office. They were all paranoid about listening devices indoors, and probably rightfully so. Instead, he tended to talk to them, in vague terms at first but with increasing specificity as trust was established, on one of Mother Base’s high exterior platforms, the one that gave the best impression of MSF’s size but without giving away details about the precise location or quantity of resources or personnel. It worked on the commander of the Saramiak People’s Guerilla Force, who hired MSF with a handshake and climbed back into this Kamov Ka-18 for his trip back to the mainland.

The commander had given Snake a dossier with all the pertinent information about MSF’s new contact person in Malaysia, as well as details on SPGF’s materiel, and their available and potential forces recruited. Snake headed back to his office, intending to route the dossier to Kaz later, but when he stepped inside, Kaz was already waiting for him on the couch.

**Author's Note:**

> berlynn-wohl.tumblr and @berlynnwohl on Twitter for more of this sort of nonsense, including more original Metal Gear content and information about my writings that are not available on AO3


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